


Flash Forward

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Fluff, Future, No Slash, Points of View
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-18
Updated: 2007-04-04
Packaged: 2018-12-29 02:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: "Five years ago I was thinking about how everybody and everything changes.  And with the amount of changes that I was going through, that we were all going through, it is no wonder I was thrown for a loop.  Back then, when I flashed back five years, it seemed so unbelievable.  We had all come so far from where we once were, who we once were."





	1. Home for good

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Michael POV 2010

Five years ago I was thinking about how everybody and everything changes. And with the amount of changes that I was going through, that we were all going through, it is no wonder I was thrown for a loop. Back then, when I flashed back five years, it seemed so unbelievable. We had all come so far from where we once were, who we once were. Ben and I adopted Hunter and made our house a home. Mel and Linds moved to Canada with my honey-bun and Gus, Emmett and Ted finally found love and partners in Calvin and Blake. Brian and Justin had an almost wedding followed by a hundred mile separation. I can’t help but think about the strange places that life takes us and how we are never stationary. We have all kept moving, kept going, kept living.

And now five years later, it seems like everything has come full circle, life is back to normal. Things at my house are pretty much the same. Hunter has just graduated from Carnegie Mellon with a degree in theatre. Ben received his well-deserved tenure from the same institution and my humble, yet successful business is still a passion in my life.

Since gay marriage had been legalized in 16 states, including Pennsylvania, and gay rights had been greatly increased two years ago, Mel and Linds decided to come back to the good ‘ole US of A. Mel was most excited because she had been complaining about the cold. Linds found a space to open up her own gallery. The money to fund her endeavor came from a very famous artist that refused to deal with anyone except her, but more on that later.

Ted and Blake tied the knot last year and have since bought a house a block from Ben and me. Emmett and Calvin considered moving back to Mississippi, but thought better of it after a visit to Hazelhurst where they found that ‘their kind’ was still not welcome. That didn’t faze Emmett ‘fuck ‘em all’ Honeycutt however. He just said it was all for the best that he stay with his true family-- us. They now live in an apartment in the heart of Liberty Ave.

Ma was elated that she finally got to marry my now stepfather, Carl on the day gay marriage was legalized. Yes, my mother and a thousand queers stood on the courthouse steps that day. But, just like Ma said, “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

And lastly, Justin is moving back to Pittsburgh, today. Lindsey told me that with his level of success he could paint in Siberia and still be as famous as he was in New York. So, here we are, the whole motley crew, at the arrivals gate at the airport anticipating Justin’s return. Brian stands beside me visibly nervous, well maybe only to those who know him and we all do. So, it would be just as well if he held a sign declaring his anxiety.

And speaking of signs, Ma balances her poster board that reads, ‘Welcome Home Sunshine!’ in her hands as she taps her foot and verbalizes her impatience.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“They only touched down a minutes ago, honey.” Carl said, trying to calm her, of course to no avail.

Brian gives him a grateful smile and turns back to the gate. I put my hand on his arm and he lets go of a little tension, but not enough for my liking.

He leans down and whispers to me, “Why did EVERYONE have to come to the fucking airport?”

“Ma’s idea, she said that she didn’t want her Sunshine sneaking back into town like he did every other time. And she also wanted to see him sometime, since, and I quote, “He will probably be flat on his back for a week if Brian has anything to say about it.” So, that’s why.” I explain with a smirk.

He smiles back and retorts, “He won’t just be flat on his back. He will be on his knees, his side, on his feet—“

“All right, I get it. But, Ma was right in general. He won’t emerge from Casa de Kinney for a while at least.” I cut off his obvious daydream and laugh lightly.

Gus walks up and taps Brian on the back, “Dad, when’s Justin getting here?” He asks while holding JR’s hand as she squirms beside him restlessly. “Jenny has to pee.”

“A few more minutes, Gus.” Brian says as he ruffles Gus’ hair.

“Watch the hair, Dad.” Gus states in true Brian fashion as he smoothes the locks down.

Gus is the spitting image of Brian, handsome, tall, with chestnut hair and hazel eyes. At ten years old, he is one of the smartest kids in his class and the captain of his soccer team. He also inherited Brian’s vanity and kind heart. Gus protects Jenny like she is the Hope diamond and sometimes I think that to him, she is.

My darling Jenny has her mother’s tenacity and my ability to make friends. She is the most popular kid in Kindergarten and the best ballerina I have ever seen. Well, I know I am a little biased but she’s my little girl. She is no princess though; she is also a tough as nails tomboy.

“Can you hold it Jenny?” Gus asks, very concerned.

Jenny thinks for a second and nods. Brian and I smile at our children and shake our heads amused. Brian’s attention goes directly back to the terminal doorway.

And then, as Brian looks to the gate, Justin appears. Once he is spotted, everyone begins cheering and clapping, except Brian that is. He stands to the side as his mom, then Molly, Ma, Emmett, Calvin, Ted, Blake, Ben, Hunter, Mel, Linds, Gus, Jenny, Carl, Daphne, and myself greet Justin. The whole reception takes the better part of five minutes. Yet, Brian and Justin don’t take their eyes off one another for a second. Justin is methodically and politely working his way to his lover. Finally, they reach each other and Justin jumps onto Brian, swinging his legs around Brian’s hips and his arms around his neck. Brian is a bit taken aback by the enthusiastic greeting, but quickly settles into it. They begin to kiss and you can just tell that the world stops for both of them. I know for a fact that the rest of us are a mere memory, they have forgotten that they are in the middle of the airport, and even if they remembered, they wouldn’t care.

“Welcome home, Sunshine.” Brian whispers as he sets Justin back on the ground.

“Home for good.” Justin assures.

Like I said, things are pretty much back to normal around here. But, as usual, our story is never done. We are a lively bunch and there are many more details to fill in, more tales to tell…


	2. Stuck Together

"You calm the storms  
and you give me rest  
You hold me in your hands  
You won't let me fall  
You still my heart  
and you take my breath away  
Would you take me in  
Take me deeper now 

And how can I  
stand here with you  
and not be moved by you  
Would you tell me  
how could it be  
any better than this 

'Cause you're all I want  
You're all I need   
You're everything  
Everything"  
\--Lifehouse-- "Everything"

 

Justin POV 2010

Slivers of light creep across my face as the noon sun charms my eyes open. When I finally give into the sunlight I see Brian sitting at the edge of the bed. He smiles as I sleepily rub my eyes and stretch. I smile back and bite my bottom lip shyly because I know that he thinks it’s sexy. He reaches down to the floor and retrieves a familiar box. I can immediately feel a rush go through me. 

“So, what’da ya say?” He asks genuinely, his voice still husky from sleep.

“I love you.” I say back.

“I know that, but will you marry me?” 

“Remember the last time we tried to get married?” I question, quirking my eyebrow to bring the point home.

“Too well.” He states and I see him go back to that place. That lonely place that we both know, painfully know. 

He recovers quickly and continues, “But this time neither one of us is moving to the big city.” He looks to me for confirmation. I nod, a small gesture of reassurance. 

“I want you to be mine. And I want you all to myself.” He levels his gaze with mine so I know that he is speaking from the heart.

Brian flips open the jewelry box to expose the abandoned rings inside.

I sit up and bring my knees up to my chest like I used to when I was a kid. Sometimes I wonder why he asks questions like this. My answer is of course yes. I would travel to the ends of the earth to be near him. He makes every sappy love song make sense. He makes it easier to breathe.

I know that he acts so tough and aloof so he can cover up for the fact that he is actually full of self-doubt. It probably goes back to his childhood. He never talks to me about it but I can guess at the things he had to endure. My perfectly scarred Brian; I wouldn’t want him any other way. I just wish that I could take some of that pain and insecurity away. If I did, maybe he could see what a wonderful man he has become. My lover, my partner, my… husband. And I am getting used to the sound of that, very used to it. 

“Yes Brian, I would love to marry you. Now if you don’t fuck me in the next sixty seconds, I might have to rethink my answer.”

He smiles again and my heart feels satisfied. Every time he smiles because of me I feel like I’ve won a gold medal, a Nobel Prize and an Oscar all at once. Making him happy is my greatest masterpiece, one that nobody can own, except me. When he tackles me and kisses me so deeply I think I might faint, I understand that life doesn’t get better than this. Absolute bliss. 

We make love for hours- laughing, smiling, groaning, sweating. And it is as good as it ever was, better in some ways. The unknown dangerous quality that sex once had, has worn off. But, instead, it has been replaced with undying passion, carnal intimate knowledge, and, most importantly, love.

There are times, however, every once in a while that I yearn to be that naïve seventeen year old again. Before I knew that infatuation is not real love. Before I knew the power of a single swing of a baseball bat. Before I had to face that my father is a lost cause. Before I knew what true guttural loneliness felt like. But, then I always remember that without those experiences, those wounds, I wouldn’t be right here, lying naked and sated with my partner of nearly nine years. And I remember why it was all worth it. So that I can capture this moment in a freeze frame; a memory that helps the pain feel less, makes the hurt dwindle to a dull ache, long forgotten. I just hope that my presence does the same for Brian. Even a little.

I read a quote once that didn’t make sense until just lately, “I love you not only for who you are, but for who I am when I am with you.” Brian makes me believe this. I am a better man when he is beside me, loving me. I am also completely sure that it is vice versa. Emmett told me something once, a long time ago, and I carried it with me. See, Em always liked me, Michael didn’t, but Em accepted me. He told me that I was the beginning of Brian’ heart slowly opening. It was a while before I believed him or understood the enormity of his statement. Brian has allowed a lot more people into his heart. He loves openly these days and most importantly with out regret. He is still an asshole, still a vain queen sometimes. But that is who I fell in love with so many years ago. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks as I twist my head on his chest to look into his eyes, eyes as intense as the day I met him.

“I was thinking about how good you look in a tux.” I answer with a naughty smirk, “You?”

“Same.” He responds deadpan.

I laugh and shake my head, “You’re impossible.”

“But, you love me and now you’re stuck with me.” He replies as he slips the ring onto my finger.

“And you’re stuck with me.” I say as I slide the band on his finger. “Stuck together.”


	3. Happy Halloween

They say love is hell,  
But I've only been laughin' ever since I fell  
It's only gonna make me love you more  
The lord will have his way but I'm just a call away  
It's only gonna make you love me more  
\--Ryan Adams "Gonna Make You Love Me"

Brian POV 2008

Cynthia buzzes me at 2:30pm or so and tells me I have a call from Justin. She also adds that I have a meeting at three and I should keep it down if I am going to have phone sex. I tell her to mind her own business and fuck off, then I pick up line two.

“Hey.” I say casually.

We just talked this morning so I know that nothing major is probably going on. He called me at 3 am to tell me that I have the best cock in the world. I could almost smell the vodka through the phone, but that didn’t make the compliment any less true.

“Hi Bri, did you need anything from Prada? I can bring it back with me.” He seems to have recovered well from his drunken night on the town. His voice is cheery and awake.

His question kind of throws me at first. He has been known to send me things he knows I like from time to time. It happens more increasingly now that he is doing very well for himself. With his pieces price tagged at thousands a pop, it is no wonder. And Justin sells out every show without fail.

“First of all, I don’t need you to buy me clothes. Second, yes I need a new pair of black loafers and lastly, when are you coming home again? You didn’t tell me you were planning a trip, especially with your show coming up in a few weeks.” I don’t mean to sound like a parent, but someone has to talk some sense into him.

“You don’t want me to come?” He says it a little provocatively, not letting the double meaning go unnoticed.

“Of course I want you to come. I just don’t want you wasting time that you could be working, that’s all.”

“I don’t consider it a waste.” He is getting defensive now, but I know that he still needs reassurance once in a while.

“You know what I mean, nevertheless you were here a week ago.”

“But Brian, you know what Friday is.”

“Justin you don’t have to come home for every holiday.”

“But, I love Halloween.” He replies, sounding like Gus.

“You came back for Flag Day too.” I say dryly, not accepting his lame excuse.

“I am very patriotic.” I huff a laugh at his response and shake my head.

“Veteran’s Day?”

“Well…” His voice trails off, searching for any justification.

“Justin, we don’t even know any veterans.” I reply in a laugh.

“I was just supporting the troops.” He says indignantly.

“What troops? The war ended a year ago.” I respond, standing my ground as well.

“Troops in general.”

“Uh huh.”

“Whatever, I didn’t see you minding when I wore that camouflage army outfit.” He replies seductively.

My brain has an immediate flashback to the memory of Justin decked out in the full army get up. My dick seems to recall it too because right now it is standing at attention.

“There is something about a man in uniform.” I say fondly as my mind reminisces.

“Well, it’ll be Halloween. Maybe the costume could make another appearance.” He says even more seductively than before, doing this little breathy thing into the phone that drives me nuts. And with that I am a goner.

“When’s your flight?” I ask defeated.

“Friday, 10:00 am.”

“I’ll pick up at the airport.”

“Brian, I can take a cab.” He says stubbornly.

“I’m picking you up.” I reply with finality.

“Fine. I’ll see you soon.”

“Later.”

“Later.”

I hang up the phone and take a deep breath. I want to see him, God I do, but I don’t want him ignoring his work because he misses home. I worry that he thinks he needs to take care of me even though he’s a hundred miles away. He doesn’t have to, but I miss it at the same time. I miss sticky notes on the mirror reminding of things I need to do. I miss being awakened by kisses and caresses. I miss leftovers in the fridge. I even miss something as simple as an art magazine or sketchbook on his bedside table. I miss him loving me.

Cynthia buzzes me again with another call. I crack my neck and roll my head on my shoulders and I realize that I don’t sleep as well without him. I shake the thought and pick up the phone again.

“Kinney.”

“I love you,” I smile recognizing the voice and longing, “I forgot to tell you and I didn’t want you sitting there wondering.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.” I say with a smile quirking at the side of my mouth.

“What was that?” He says as if he really couldn’t hear me.

“I love you.” I repeat, raising my volume a notch or two.

“I think I have a bad connection, could you repeat that?” He is almost giggling into the phone now, but I decide to play along with his little game.

“I LOVE YOU!” I nearly shout. All of Kinnetic probably heard me and Cynthia most certainly did.

“All right, okay, geez, you don’t have to shout.” He says through a laugh.

“I love you.” I whisper sexily.

“Mmmm… I love you, Brian. And I’m going to see you on Friday and you’re gonna fuck me so hard that I’ll feel it for a month.” He matches my tone and his little moan goes straight to my dick.

“How did you know?” I say, flirting with him some more.

“I’m psychic.”

“Oh yeah? What am I thinking right now?”

“You’re thinking,” he pauses and I can almost see him rubbing his temples and squinting his eyes. “That you only have 10 minutes until your next appointment so I better make you come in 8 minutes or less.”

“You are good. How much do I owe you?”

“You couldn’t afford me.”

“How about a trade in services.” I reply while raising one eyebrow.

“Deal.” He confirms and I can hear him undoing his zipper, wishing that he were doing it to me too.

“Now, you said you were going to wear that army costume?” I begin while pulling down my underwear.

“Uh huh… I promise you will have a very Happy Halloween.”


	4. Skin Warming Skin

Brian 2006

"I'm so tired but I can't sleep  
Standin' on the edge of something much too deep  
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word  
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard...  
I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to loose  
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose  
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night  
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light"--Sarah MacLachlan "I Will Remember You"

I beg for sleep but it doesn’t come. I feel like I have been tired for a year. When I do nod off, it is restless slumber. I toss and turn; yet nothing feels comfortable. My bed is enormous and empty. So here I am, three a.m., no sleep and none is sight.

I work all the time. Between Babylon and Kinnetic it isn’t difficult to be a workaholic. Yet, even there I have the best staff possible who handle all the problems before they arise. So, my workdays go pretty smoothly and I get home at a reasonable hour. 

Everyone takes pity on me (or what they consider pity), and force me to attend dinner dates.  
Monday: Michael and Ben’s house  
Wednesday: Ted and Blake’s apartment  
Sunday (of course): Deb’s house for brunch

Even Cynthia has invited me over to her place to have dinner with her fiancé, Nate. I try to turn them down, but they are persistent. And with Deb, I fear for the health of my good ball.

I work out four or five days a week. I even run outside now, weather permitting. I guess I am hoping to finally wear myself out so that I can crash for more than ten minutes at a time. Michael is trying to convince me to take a vacation. ‘Maybe New York,” he says with a wink. But what he doesn’t know, what he couldn’t know, is that Justin and I really don’t talk anymore. He hasn’t called me in three months and I just don’t feel right calling him. He is young and having fun in the big city, finding out who he is without me. And that’s exactly what I want him to do. I want him to be independent and self-reliant. But, that doesn’t stop the burning in my stomach when he is mentioned at endless dinner parties. It definately doesn’t cure my insomnia. 

I sit and wonder if this is it. Is this the life I am going to lead from now on? Rationally I know it isn’t. I know that one day I’ll wake up from fitful sleep and have a good day. But, rationality doesn’t prevail lately. I have too much time to think and my mind won’t shut off. And also, there is part of me that doesn’t want to go back to the way things once were. I sort of crave the ache in my chest. I don’t want to have to open up again if I close myself off. I have gotten used to smiling and laughing with my friends. I know how it feels to tell someone “I love you” and I have seen the face it creates. It is like no other drug I have taken. Making someone else happy is addictive I am so afraid that one day I will revert to Brian fucking Kinney, the cold-hearted asshole that everyone shake their heads at. And if I do, can I ever come back to where I am? Sometimes I think so. But, truly, I know it is impossible. 

 

 

Justin 

"Come back home for another year  
And ask yourself if you could handle this  
Say my name before you disappear  
I always thought that you could handle this  
And you know you’re hard enough  
And you find you’re strong enough  
And you feel you’re strong enough  
In your life, you can talk about it  
Oh in your life, you can live without   
Can live without" --Pete Yorn "Come Back Home"

 

I caught the redeye out of JFK and I am standing outside on Tremont Street. I am looking up at a place I called home for years. I see a shadow by the window; at least he is still up. I know that if I don’t go now I’ll lose my nerve. I don’t know what his reaction to my impromptu visit will be. I know that he could never forget me, but will he still love me? He said he did, but that was more than a year ago. And if he’s started to heal after I pretty much abandoned him, can I really go in and open old wounds?

And then it occurs to me. Brian only responds to persistence. I pestered him for years and he finally admitted that he loved me. And it was all worth it. So, I walk up to the door, key in hand, hoping it still works. Luckily it does work. I take the stairs just in case I feel like running away. I reach the top floor and stop at the metal door. Do I knock or just open it? Right now that door seems so huge and heavy. It is like an impenetrable barrier between him and me. It is the perfect metaphor for our relationship: there is always some between us. I stand there for a full minute before I take a deep breath and say, “Fortune favors the brave.” 

I try the door and to my surprise it opens, unlocked. I walk in tentatively. Brian is standing by the windows, smoking a cigarette. He turns and meets my gaze. I can’t read his _expression, shock is definitely there, but good or bad I don’t know. 

I look away and say, “The door was open so I just…” I trail off, not knowing what explanation I can give for not calling, writing or visiting in so long.

“There’s no locks on our doors, remember?” He replies.

I smile slightly at the comment, so does he. I take a few steps into the room. This feels normal, this feels like us. The same us I have been missing for so long.

“What are you doing here?” His voice doesn’t reveal any anger or annoyance. It is just a question and it hurts a little that he has to ask.

“I was thinking about doing this painting and I needed some inspiration.” I lie.

“Pittsburgh is quite nice this time of year--”

“I had to see you.” I finally blurt out, interrupting his sentence. 

He walks closer to me and puts his arms out to either side then does a slow spin.

“Here I am. So, are you coming or going? Or coming-”

“I’m staying.” I interject before he can finish.

“For how long?”

“A little while, I’m not sure. A week, maybe two.”

He rolls his bottom lip into his mouth and nods. He walks away from me toward the windows where he had abandoned minutes before. He puts it out and turns to me again. It is too tense between us and I hate it. I want the comfortable feeling I have been yearning for. I set down my bag then I follow after him. He turns around with a confused expression.

"Touch me, Brian." I almost plead.

He smooths his hand over my cheek and runs his fingers through my hair. I tip my head back and close my eyes and he kisses me. And I swoon.

He makes love to me and I forget why I don't call. Why don't I want this more? I know I'll know the answer in two weeks. I'll have to leave again and my heart will break in two. But, right this second, he is alseep, deeper than I have ever seen him. I study the curves of his body, the laugh lines on his face, the hue of his tanned skin. I memorize it, so that I can remember why I have to come back. He looks so peaceful and satisfied. So peaceful actually that it looks far too appealing to stay up any longer. I turn on my side and snuggle into his warmth. He rolls toward me and that is how we wake up, all tangled limbs and skin warming skin.


	5. The Storm

Rain on my head, rain on me   
Can give this up   
Rain on my life, again and again   
Why can't I dream this away from me

“Dreams of Our Fathers”  By: Dave Matthews Band 

  

Justin and Brian  2010

 

The soft showers of the day were forgotten as the rain raged outside the windows of the apartment building.  Huge drops splattered against the glass and bricks creating a lilting din.  The moon, long ago veiled, made the night pitch black save one lone street light and the occasional flash of lightening in the sky.  

            Suddenly thunder crashed and ripped through the air.  Justin jilted awake out of sound sleep from the abrupt disturbance and uttered a startled gasp.  He half laughed at himself for the dramatic reaction of being pulled out of REM sleep.  He sat up fully, allowing himself to calm down and his heart rate to return to its normal cadence.  

            As his eyes began to focus in the darkness, he realized that he wasn’t where he thought he was.  He wasn’t in his one room studio in New York City.  He wasn’t in a small bed with itchy sheets.  He was in Brian’s loft in Pittsburgh in a king sized bed with 1500 thread count covers.  He smiled and became immediately relaxed just at the sheer thought that he wasn’t in his lonely apartment without someone near him.  And as he silently rejoiced in his good fortune, he noticed he was alone.  Brian wasn’t to his right, in fact, he wasn’t in the room at all.

            Justin climbed out of bed and shivered as the goose bumps began to form on his flesh as it came in contact with the cool night air.  He padded over to the dining room table where Brian sat smoking a cigarette and nursing a glass of Beam.  He took the chair next to his lover and kissed his shoulder.  Brian looked at him and half smiled.  Justin could sense something more than insomnia was the reason Brian was up at this hour.  

 

“You okay?”  Justin asked, his voice still husky from sleep.

 

“Couldn’t sleep.”  Brian nodded then replied.

 

Justin stole the cigarette from Brian’s hand and took a drag.  Brian offered the drink to Justin, which he also accepted.

 

“I was thinking too much and I couldn’t doze off.”

 

“Uh hum,” Justin murmured in response, “Any particular thought?”

 

Brian exhaled and shrugged.  Justin waited, letting the silence hang in the air, until the older man felt ready to confess his late night troubles.  After a full minute Brian sighed again.

 

“Do you remember the night Gus was born?”  Brian asked almost rhetorically.

 

“Uh hum.”

 

“Well, I was thinking about how small he was, how incredibly fragile.  His whole hand couldn’t even wrap around one of my fingers.  And I couldn’t look away from him, even if I tried, I couldn’t stop looking at him.  He was just this tiny soft bundle, but I was mesmerized.  I never wanted to let him go.  I wanted to hold him forever and protect him from the world.  All the fucked up people that would hurt him, I wanted to kill them all so that they couldn’t taint him, couldn’t harm him.  But, I didn’t.  I left him with his mothers and that was it.  I would stop by once in a while, go for a walk in the park and that would be it.  I left him, and I let him go all the way to fucking Canada.  I’m no better than he was.”

 

Justin reached out and touched his arm lovingly, then took his face in his hand.  He turned Brian’s chin and turn it to face him.

 

“You’re not your father.  You always have Gus’ best interests in mind.  You are a good father, Brian.  Even if you don’t see it, I do.”  Justin reasoned.

 

“I almost believe you.”  Brian said longingly.

 

“Believe me, Brian.  I have always known more about you than you’ve given me credit for.”  

 

Brian smiled at the comment, but still didn’t seem satisfied. He turned away and drained the glass of amber liquid.  

 

“Look Brian,” Justin continued as he motioned to the far wall by the computer desk, “look at the shrine you have to Gus.  Pictures of you two together, Christmases, teaching him to play soccer, paintings I’ve done of him, painting Gus did when he was little; all of this shows that you love him more than life itself.  And he worships you in the same way, Brian.  I’ve seen in his eyes.  He is your son, he is a part of you.”  Justin’s voice was almost verging on pleading.

 

Brian looked over at him and saw the truth in his gaze.  He smiled appreciatively and pulled Justin in for a kiss.  

 

After they broke the kiss, Brian held Justin's face in his hands.  He looked at his lover as if he had never seen him before.  Justin was a man now.  A strong, decent person.  Something that Brian had aspired to in his life but always felt was somehow out of reach.  But, Justin had it in droves.  He helped where he could and he loved with his whole heart, what more could you ask for in a partner?  Maybe, just maybe, Brian thought, if this amazing man loves me, there might be something worth loving within me.  And even if I am a terrible father, Justin will be there to pull me back.  He makes me good at so many things.  Helping me be a father to Gus will be another thing for him to master and mold.  On those tiny little shoulders, he carries my world and his.  I just hope one day I can lessen his load. 

 

“Let’s go to bed.”  Brian offered as he stabbed out the forgotten cigarette.     

 

Brian led the way as Justin stopped to glance out the window and noticed that the storm had passed; the moonlight was peering through the curtains now.  

 

“Coming?”  Brian asked when he had realized that Justin hadn’t yet followed him up the steps.  

 

“Yeah, I’m coming.” 


	6. Tomorrow and Everyday

I realized as I lay down to sleep  
We haven't spoke in weeks  
So many things that I'd like to know  
Come have a talk with me  
I need a sign, something I can see  
Why all the mystery?  
I try not to fall for make believe  
But what is reality?  
Where do we go?  
What do we know?  
Life has to have a meaning  
Show me the light  
Show me the way  
Show that you're listening  
Show me that you love me  
Show me that you walk with me  
"Show me"  By: John Legend

Brian and Justin POV 2007 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

A long silence passed after the routine greeting. Justin had called Brian and was now left with nothing to say; foresight was never his strong suit when it came to this man. 

“So… how have you been?” Brian finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable lapse in conversation.

“Good, I mean, I’m okay, everything is fine. So, good, mean pretty good, not spectacular, but good. You?” He nervously answered, mentally beating himself up for being so inarticulate. 

“Fine.” Brian replied in the exact opposite fashion from the young man. “Is there something that you needed--”

“I miss you.” Justin interjected, regretting the words even as they exited his mouth.

He stayed quiet for a long time, pressing back the tears that threatened to fall if he said another word. Soon, the muteness formed over them like a fog and Justin’s tears were inching nearer to his cheek.

“Me too.” Brian said, letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

Justin sighed with relief coupled with the loneliness of his situation, “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For talking to me.”

“I have been known on occasion to do so.” Brian sardonically teased.

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s been awhile.” 

“Too long for me.”

“Yeah… So, how are you really?”

“Really?…” Justin breathed in, not knowing how much he should reveal. “I never thought that in a city millions that I could feel so alone. And, umm… sometimes I can’t sleep and I’ll have these dreams when I do and then I really can’t sleep. Sorry, I’m rambling.” The younger man observed apologetically. 

“Nah, I understand. What are your dreams about, they aren’t nightmares are they?” Brian said, bordering on worried.

“No, no nothing like the ones I used to have.” Justin replied trying to reassure his lover. “They’re really not bad at all.”

“So, what _are_ they about?”

“You.”

“And you can’t sleep because of me?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Am I scary?” Brian joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

“Naw, just you being you.” Justin smiled ruefully.

“I have those sometimes, but I just don’t wanna wake up.”

“Same difference.” Justin noted.

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“I better go. I have to get up really early.” Justin hastily tried to get off the line as he felt his emotions beginning to take a hold of him.

“Me too.”

“Sorry I called so late.” Justin added, not knowing how to end the call.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” 

“Well, bye.”

“Sweet dreams, Sunshine.” Brian added with a sweet yet strong voice that only Brian could pull off without being labeled as romantic.

“Later.” Justin replied as he could almost feel himself swooning.

“Later.”

Brian lay in his bed, his heart beating quickly and his mind on overload. So, that was the call. The call that he had been hoping for and against. ‘Wasn’t that bad.’, Brian thought to himself. It could have gone better, but what in their fucked up history couldn’t have been? Lots of things could have been, could have been… that was the repeating theme. Brian picked up the phone again, resolute that tonight would not be a could have been. He dialed and the phone rang only once.

“Brian?” Justin asked/answered.

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t not call.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure, but I do know that I want to talk to you. I want to talk to you everyday. Everyday, so I can hear bout how you missed the bus, or had a good latte, or how there was nothing on TV so you ended up reading your roommate’s Marie Clare and you had to tell me about this one article. I want to hear it because when I do, I don’t feel so far away from you.” Brian took a gulp of air after having just spilled out his heart in one breath.

“Yeah, okay.” Justin agreed, the tears prickling at his eyes once more.

“Tomorrow then?” Brian asked hopefully, maybe even needy.

“I can’t wait.” Justin replied earnestly.

“Later.”

“Later.”

Justin lay back on is pillow and cried. Cried it all out, the relief, the sorrow, the love, the loss. He let it go into the night, knowing that tomorrow would be better because this part was done. The part where they act like casual acquaintances and make simple pleasantries and inquire about the weather. The part where the words unsaid are having battle with the ones voices. Where Brian acts unaffected and Justin tries not to cry. And that’s why he’s doing it now. Because it is cathartic and necessary and he didn’t have to be brave and aloof; he could just be him. Justin flipped the tear-stained pillow over and took a deep calming breaths, evening out his pulse and soothing his nerves. He stopped his little emotional outburst by playing Brian’s words over and over in his head… “I want to talk to you, everyday… because when I do, I don’t feel so far away from you.” These words brought on a smile that Brian would have given anything to see, followed by a dream that Justin, like Brian, never wanted to wake up from. But, then again, waking up meant it would be tomorrow. Now there was a thought. Tomorrow and everyday. 


End file.
